


Revelations

by haldolhs



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, SebaCiel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2013-12-05
Packaged: 2018-01-01 03:09:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1039635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haldolhs/pseuds/haldolhs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Queen’s Watchdog is all grown up and outwardly enjoying an enviable life afforded by his wealth and title, but power, luxury and status aren’t enough to satisfy his ravenous appetite. And speaking of hunger, why hasn’t his demon butler yet devoured his soul?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's fanfic--apply standard disclaimer. Heavy fluff, moderate smut, a dash of angst and a just a dusting of plot.

_His soul is mine._

The demon stands in a shadowed alcove a short distance from the throng of waltzing nobles, his crimson eyes trained on the ebony hair of Ciel Phantomhive as the earl glides his wife with the flow of the other couples around the brightly-lit ballroom floor.

His young master has become quite adept at the dance, the demon notes with a sense of accomplishment and a swell of pride. Long gone is the petulant boy who glared up at him with one icy cerulean eye while he grappled for hold with angry hands and stumbled over his butler’s feet, scuffing shiny, black shoes. At twenty-four, Ciel moves with a fluid grace that comes with the confidence of being comfortable in his own skin, even if that skin is clothed in ridiculous layers of gaudy sapphire velvet and ivory silk.

Lady Elizabeth had picked out Ciel’s finery for Marquis Drummond’s ball, of course, and dressed herself to match. Together, they are the very picture of a fairy tale romance—the tall, dark-haired prince with his petite, blond princess in his arms smiling up at him with complete adoration. She looks at him as if her sun and moon rises and sets over the breadth of his strong shoulders, as if their shared sky would never know the mar of a storm cloud, as if their hearts were as light as their feet. Only her grip on his shoulder, too firm, too possessive, belies the air of carefree happiness in which she attempts to bathe them both.

_Mine!_ The dig of those pale, slender fingers scream.

The demon smirks, knowing full well Lady Phantomhive is not oblivious to the monster who lurks within the shadows, and without them, ever present at her husband’s beck and call.

_He is mine._

As if she’s heard him, Lady Elizabeth presses close to her husband—much too close for decorum at such an elegant and dignified event—and whispers up into his ear, “I haven’t seen Sebastian. Do you think perhaps he’s run off with Lady Drummond’s handmaiden? She’s really quite lovely.”

_I hear you, My Lady. Tell me, can you feel my claim on him? Do you sense my presence even when you’re writhing beneath him? Can you smell me on his skin? Taste me on his tongue?_

Laughing easily, Ciel reestablishes a respectable distance between them and then sends her into an impromptu twirl. He pulls her, breathless and giddy, back into his arms and uses her distraction to locate his black-clad butler with his well-trained eye.

Cerulean locks with crimson, and the radiance of Ciel’s smile pulls Sebastian out of the darkness.


	2. 2

Lady Phantomhive has imbibed too much champagne. Elizabeth’s tenacious hold on pretense slips. Her misery shows, and it puts Sebastian on edge.

She stands amid a gaggle of tittering noblewomen refreshing themselves near the buffet, yet another flute of champagne teetering between her fingers, a wide smile stretching her flush face. She giggles nonsensically at a mundane observation of the week’s temperate weather, oblivious to the knowing and amused smirks she’s cast by her contemporaries.

Her jade eyes dart every few seconds to where Ciel stands discussing Funtom business with Marquis Drummond, their butlers stationed like sentries at their sides. Sebastian catches her glance, looks pointedly at the drink in her hand, and subtly shakes his head.

Elizabeth glowers.

“I must admit, Lizzie, I’m quite envious,” says the Lady Montcliff, following Elizabeth’s gaze. “They provide such a _titillating_ sight, your husband and his butler. Both tall, dark, and _wickedly_ handsome.” She sniggers, “it’s little wonder you’re always smiling, with that pair at your ready disposal.”

Sebastian tenses, watching the plastic smile melt from Elizabeth’s paling face as her peers erupt into faux-shocked gasps and low laughter, many craning their necks to view the scene upon which Lady Montcliff has lavished such lecherous admiration.

“I’m offended, Katherine,” Elizabeth replies. “Is your opinion of me so low as to believe I’d look at anyone other than Ciel? Sebastian is a _servant_. Honestly, I really can’t believe . . .”

“Servant or not, I’d let that Sebastian untwist my knickers.” Lady Blackburn interrupts, inciting another round of secretly delighted gasps. “Have you seen my Harold? Only twenty and six, and already he’s bald and pot-bellied. Can barely find his willie beneath all that blubber, much less . . .”

“It’s the same with my Donald, dear,” Lady Chapell chortles. “What I wouldn’t give to find out if that butler’s dark hair is as silky as it looks.”

Elizabeth continues to pale, and downs the rest of her champagne in one gulp.

“Hair?” Lady Edgarton snorts. “With those succulent lips? I’d much rather . . .”

“To hell with his pretty face,” Lady Blackburn scoffs. “What is he sporting between those long, toned thighs? That’s what _I_ want to know!”

“Enough!” Elizabeth yells above their raucous laughter, her face red. The empty champagne flute tumbles from her fingers and shatters on the floor at her feet.

There’s nothing feigned about the collective gasp she elicits. Sebastian sidles closer to his master, who is deep in conversation with Drummond and oblivious to the scene preparing to implode.

“Lizzie, are you quite alright?” Lady Montcliff asks with alarm.

“Fools. You’re all such foolish little girls, fallen under his spell.” Tears well in Elizabeth’s eyes. “Sebastian may look like an angel, but I promise you, he’s the devil himself.”    

Sebastian turns and breathes into his master’s ear, “It’s time to make your apologies My Lord. Your Lady has lost her tongue. The carriage will be made ready post haste.”

Nodding, Ciel’s unpatched eye widens with alarm as he locates his wife’s tear-streaked face amid the center of a growing circle of concern. “We’ll meet you out front directly, Sebastian. Edmond, I’m sorry, but it seems Lady Phantomhive has taken ill. Perhaps we can finish this conversation . . .

Sebastian focuses his concentration on controlling his preternatural speed while he transverses the crowd out of the ballroom. He stifles his urge to snatch Elizabeth up out of the throng of shocked women and throttle her fragile neck.

Snake, the Phantomhive coachman, jumps into the driver’s box and gathers the horses’ reins the moment he sees Sebastian emerge from Drummond manor. Without question, he maneuvers the carriage out onto the middle of the drive.

A few moments later, Ciel approaches carrying Elizabeth. Her arms lay limply around his neck, her unconscious face nestled against his breast, tears drying on her flaccid cheeks.  

Ciel’s expression is one of barely controlled rage. “She was blathering on about dead babies,” he hisses to Sebastian as he hauls Elizabeth into the carriage. “Something about you coming in the night and stealing their souls. The ridiculous woman seems hell-bent on ruining me.”

“I’ll never let that happen, My Lord,” Sebastian says, pulling himself into the compartment behind his master. He helps Ciel settle Elizabeth across one plush bench, and then holds his crouch, waiting for his master to seat himself.

“Those gossip-mongering harpies will have spread every word Lizzie said throughout all of London by week’s end,” Ciel seethes, and drops himself onto the opposite bench. “What are you going to do, Sebastian? Kill them all?”

“If I have to, Young Master.” Sebastian leans out the open door of the carriage, gives two sharp knocks to the roof, and then ducks back inside, closing the door behind him.

He sits down next to Ciel just as the carriage starts to move. “Yet, delightful as such an undertaking sounds, I’m afraid it will be quite unnecessary.”

Ciel arches an eyebrow and looks at Sebastian intently.

“The conversation which precipitated Lady Elizabeth’s inebriated outpouring was quite risqué in nature, My Lord.” Sebastian smirks. “The participants were all noblewomen of high standing. They’ll hold their silence, least their salaciousness tarnish their impeccable reputations.”

“Salacious? Risqué? ” Ciel snorts. “That group? I doubt it. Donald Chapell’s wife spent the whole of last summer removing every last mention of carnality from the family bible, or so he claims. What were they talking about?”

“It seems I have toned thighs and succulent lips,” Sebastian chuckles. “Oh! And silky hair. Mustn’t forget that. It’s apparently of great import, when so many young noblemen these days are balding.”

Ciel looks him over with an appraising eye. “Well, they’re not wrong. And neither, I suspect, are you. Ogling butlers is not a condoned activity among the social elite.” He sighs heavily and looks at the sleeping Elizabeth. “I suppose I should feel relieved, but I’m simply so tired of it all. I know she’s unhappy. I know she feels unfulfilled. I know she’s decided to blame all of her misery on you, but the things she was _saying,_ Sebastian.” Ciel shudders.

“Perhaps the next time your lady becomes pregnant, you should withhold the toxic antidote you slip into her morning tea,” Sebastian says softly.

“I’ll sire no children, Sebastian.” Ciel’s tone is ice. “Let Edward’s get bear the curse of the Phantomhive legacy, if it must be borne. I’ll give the remainder of my life to the Crown. No more.”

Sebastian sighs. “I understand, My Lord. Even so, I can’t help but believe a child would not only be beneficial to Elizabeth’s emotional wellbeing, but he or she would give her someone else on which to focus the intensity of her affections.”

“Someone else to smother, you mean.” Ciel scowls. “I can picture the poor child. A little boy dressed all in pink and drowning in ruffles.”

“Would it be so terrible—to allow her that much, Young Master? It seems such a miniscule price to pay for the totality of her devotion.”

“I’m not sure who wants a baby more, Sebastian, Lizzie or you.” Ciel glares at him. “This is all your fault, you know.”

“ _My_ fault?” Sebastian widens his eyes with mock indignation. “What would I want with an infant squalling at all hours? As always, my only interest lies in the possible benefits to my master.”

“You realize, had you taken my soul when you earned it ten years ago, we wouldn’t be having this ridiculous conversation. Nor would I have suffered such humiliation tonight. Nor would Elizabeth be suffering through this pretense of a marriage, living for the one night a week I force myself to share her bed. She would be, at this moment, nursing a babe at her breast rather than sleeping off enough alcohol to rowdy a fleet of sailors.” Ciel’s expression and tone are as petulant now as they were when he was a child of ten.

Sebastian smiles. “Your soul wasn’t ready, Young Master.”

“Is it ready now?” Ciel demands.

“No.” Sebastian says simply.

“This is an order, Sebastian. Devour my soul. Now.”

As with every order Ciel has issued over the past decade, Sebastian feels a tingle within the seal emblazoned upon the back of his left hand. Nothing more. He laughs lightly. “No.”

“You are an incredibly selfish bastard,” Ciel huffs.

“To the core,” Sebastian agrees. He lifts his hand and gently brushes a lock of blue-black hair from Ciel’s pale brow with two white-gloved fingers. “As is my young master.”

Ciel leans into his touch and inches closer. He cups Sebastian’s cheek as the ice in his eye melts. “Why won’t you take my soul, Sebastian?” he whispers. “Is it because of this?”

Drawing Sebastian’s face to his, Ciel brushes a feather-light kiss over his lips, and then another, before sucking his butler’s lower lip into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue, sending a surge of heat through Sebastian’s blood.

“They’re right,” Ciel breathes as he pulls back. “Your lips _are_ succulent. Tell me why, Sebastian.”

“No.” Sebastian moans and grips the back of Ciel’s head, crashing their lips together. He plunders his young master’s mouth, craving more of that heat, craving the fire that lights the nerves of his falsely human body and sets his heart to race, craving, as always, more of Ciel who awakens something deep beyond flesh and bone and nerve and blood, something that forces him to _feel_ beyond his ever present hunger.

Ciel’s fingers tangle in his demon’s hair and grip roughly as he deepens the kiss and rolls his tongue over Sebastian’s, and over again, and again, the intensity of his desire vibrating straight to Sebastian’s stiffening cock.

They should stop, Sebastian knows, before things get further out of hand. They shouldn’t even be touching, much less devouring each other with Elizabeth sleeping not more than three feet away. It is unbefitting of both a demon and a butler of Phantomhive to abandon all restraint and render his master so exposed, but Ciel tastes like sunlight and rain, like sweet and salt, like everything so excruciatingly _essential_ , and he simply can’t get enough. He suckles Ciel’s probing tongue, and then pushes it back home to explore his young master’s delicious mouth with his own.

Ciel presses closer, welcoming the dominance as he all but climbs on Sebastian’s lap. One hand untangles from Sebastian’s hair to slide slowly down over his waistcoat and delve beneath the tailored waistband of his trousers where heated fingers encircle his growing erection.

“Ciel.” Sebastian breathes as his master’s glorious grip slides down over his length and then up again, doubling the pressure of need already pooled at his groin. “Ciel, do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

“I bloody well hope so,” Ciel murmurs against his throat and gives another languid pump to his erection. He nips at Sebastian’s earlobe and whispers, “I love that you don’t wear drawers, Sebastian. Not only is it convenient, it’s incredibly arousing.”

With a low growl, Sebastian rips open the knot of the ruffled cravat obscuring Ciel’s throat and ravages the newly exposed flesh with blunt teeth and tongue. A shiver racks through the young man’s body, a tremor Sebastian feels flutter through the fingers of Ciel’s quickening strokes, even as his master moans and arches his neck.

_Beautiful,_ Sebastian thinks as he sucks at Ciel’s throat and elicits yet another tremor, trying desperately to divert his own attention from the intense pleasure tightening his already rigid arousal. _That insipid woman is blind, garnishing him as she does with ruffles and bows. Can’t she see he’s already breathtaking?_

“Sebastian, please,” Ciel pleads. “Touch me.”

“Ciel . . .” The man is going to push him over the edge. He captures Ciel’s lips once more with his own, kissing him hungrily as he brings his hand to rub at the thick bulge straining against ridiculous jewel-toned velvet trousers.

“No,” Ciel growls, tightening his grip on Sebastian’s cock and tugging hard, an effect that first calms and then redoubles the demon’s desire, just as the earl knew it would. “Take off those damned gloves, unbutton my fly, and fucking _touch_ me.”

“If we go any further, My Lord, you’ll have nary a moment to breathe before I rip those trousers from your hips and bury my tortured prick deep within your glorious arse. Neither your sleeping wife nor our exposure to your coachman will deter me.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” Ciel ruts his clothed erection against Sebastian’s palm and tugs hard on the stiff cock in his hand once more. “Snake knows. Finny and Bard know. Mei-Rin watches. Lizzie must know. Why else would she hate you? Touch me, Sebastian.”

He gathers the last remnants of his restraint, and comes up with a thin thread. “No . . .Ciel . . .”

Ciel runs the tip of his tongue over the ridge of Sebastian’s lower lip as he strokes his butler’s erection perfectly. Then he licks the edge of Sebastian’s ear and whispers, “Fuck me, Sebastian. I’ll ride you like a wanton whore, right here, right now, I don’t care, just so long as you touch me. I _need_ you.”

The thin thread breaks. Without a sound, Sebastian rips out of Ciel’s pleasuring grip, strips the gloves from his hands, and lifts his young master to straddle over him, a knee beside either of Sebastian’s thighs, a straining velvet-clad erection directly in front of his face.

“First, I’m going to suck you dry,” Sebastian says, his tone roughened silk. “And then I’m going to fuck you senseless.”

“I love your voice.” Ciel rips open his fly. “I want to feel it humming around my cock.”

His young master smells like fire and sandalwood. Massaging the mounds of Ciel’s firm buttocks with both hands, Sebastian buries his nose within those open trousers and breathes deeply, likening the infusion of Ciel’s scent to a spiritual transcendence, for he has become a believer worshiping at a temple rather than a demon lapping at a soul.

Trembling fingers grasp beneath his jaw, urge his head back and lift his chin until he looks into the fathomless eye of his Lord, who looks back into him with the whole of his essence, utterly bared. “I _need_ you, Sebastian.”

And he does. The demon feels it down to the very spark that began his endless existence. Ciel _needs_ him, not because he is the man’s ultimate means to every end, but because he _is_ _Sebastian._

“What have you done to me?” Sebastian murmurs as he slides velvet trousers and the drawers beneath down over the silken skin of toned hips. Ciel’s proud erection bounces free and stretches gracefully skyward, pulsating fragrant waves of heat. Sebastian encircles its ample girth and strokes, causing a fat, slippery tear to weep over its engorged head. 

Ciel hisses, arching his back, his neck, and thrusts into his butler’s hand. “More.”

Sebastian, too, needs more. He needs to taste him, drink him, sustain himself on the ambrosia of Ciel’s desire, which has proven more potent than any of the meager souls his master has fed him over the past decade. With a low rumble in his throat, Sebastian wraps his arms around Ciel’s waist, pulls him forward and swallows him whole.

_Yes . . ._

“Sebastian!” Ciel wails. He tangles his fingers into Sebastian’s hair and thrusts deeper into his throat. _“FUCK!”_

A horse whinnies. The carriage jostles over a rut in the road. An abrupt snore rips from Elizabeth.

_I shall have to stage an accident,_ Sebastian thinks, pulling his mouth from Ciel’s desperate cock. With inhuman speed, he deposits his young master on the bench, poses his posture properly, and drops the frilly cravat on his lap to conceal his erection. He runs a bare hand through his own tangled hair, dons a bored expression and sits down, ensuring appropriate distance between servant and master. _A shame. I quite liked the reptile man._


	3. Chapter 3

An endless moment passes in which no one breathes, and then Elizabeth resumes her previous slow rate of respirations, indicative of deep sleep. Snake’s muffled voice urges the horses. The carriage doesn’t slow.

Ciel releases a long, breathy chuckle. He lifts his hips, pulls up his trousers, and forces his wet erection back into his pants. “I guess I forgot where we are. Sorry.” he whispers.

“My fault entirely, My Lord,” Sebastian says, his eyes glued to Elizabeth’s slack-jawed face. Her eyelids flutter almost imperceptibly.

_Dreaming?_ He wonders. _Or is it a rouse? Did she see?_

“Sebastian. She’s asleep. Relax.” Ciel says. “And drop the formalities. It’s just the two of us here.”

“No, Young Master, it is not _just the two of us.”_  Sebastian bites, whipping his head toward Ciel. The man wears an amused smirk and it enflames Sebastian all the more. “Passed out or not, your _wife_ is present, and I should have never have acted anything other than the consummate servant. Had she woke, it could have been disastrous.”

Ciel rolls his eye and snorts. “You’re being overly dramatic, Sebastian.”

“And you, Sir, are being deliberately obtuse.” Sebastian’s fingers clench on his lap. “It’s as if you have no real comprehension of Elizabeth’s mind and heart at all.”

“And I suppose _you_ do?” Ciel challenges. “By all means, my demonic sage—enlighten me.”

“She might wear a woman’s form, but she’s still very much the little girl who threw tantrums at every perceived slight. She’s passionate, idealistic and prone to juvenile manipulations to achieve her objectives.” Sebastian says, his tone heated. “You would do well to recall the intensity of those tantrums. For the past four years she’s been stomping her foot and demanding you wear the _cute_ ensemble she’s designed for you. So far, all you’ve been doing is wrinkling your nose and giving her excuses. Just what do you think she would do, _My Lord,_ should she _see_ you toss that ensemble on the floor, piss all over it, and then thrust it back in her face?”

“ _I_ didn’t want that damn ensemble in the first place, Sebastian.” Ciel blazes. “Perhaps you should have considered Lizzie’s temperament before _you_ insisted I marry her.”

“You needed a wife.” Sebastian huffs. “A nobleman who spends all of his time in the company of only his butler in this society soon finds his name sullied and his industries collapsing.”

“Then you should have let me marry Mei-Rin.” Ciel argues.

“You needed to marry nobility! Mei-Rin is a housemaid!”

“Then you should have obtained for her a noble bloodline! How hard would it have been? You’re a _demon_ , for pity’s sake! You resurrected Phantomhive manor from the ashes in the space of an hour, but you couldn’t have forged a few lousy documents?” Ciel slumps back against the bench and tosses his ruffled cravat at Sebastian. “If not Mei-Rin, we might have bought someone. Why did it have to be Lizzie?”

“Because you love her, and I thought . . .” Sebastian bites down on his tongue. _I thought once you had her in your bed, you’d fall in love with her. And then maybe I might remember how to be something other than who I am._

“ _Love_ her?” Ciel stares at him, incredulous. “Sebastian, the only person I love . . .”

_Say it. Go ahead and say it, young master, and damn me completely._ Sebastian feels his heart swell as Ciel’s dangling sentence finishes in his shining eye.

Ciel sighs. “I’m fond of Lizzie, yes. She’s my cousin, and she’s always had my best interests at heart—so long as they’re in line with her own interests.” Ciel smiles. “We’re alike that way, I suppose, and I must admit I find it somewhat endearing. But I don’t love her, Sebastian. I’ll never love her. I’m simply incapable.”

Sebastian arches an eyebrow. “Are you certain, My Lord? Three miscarriages would suggest that you are, indeed, _capable_.”

“You incredible bastard.” Ciel glares. “And tell me, Sebastian, just who _insists_ I perform that particular husbandly duty?”

“I’m simply ascertaining the situation, My Lord,” Sebastian forces a smirk. “You do realize I won’t hesitate to kill her should I suspect her of any willful intent to ruin you.”

“I’d prefer you didn’t. I’d mandate her physical protection, were I still able.” Ciel says, his tone thawing. “There are other ways to stay Lizzie’s tongue, if need be.”

Sebastian nods. “A child would be an excellent deterrent, I should think.”

“Don’t start with that again, Sebastian. It will never happen.” Ciel grumbles. The look in his eye hardens as he continues, “I was thinking more along the lines of an asylum. With scenes like the one she caused tonight, no one would disbelieve insanity. Her continued existence would be optimally beneficial, for my undying devotion would, of course, prevent me from ending our marriage, and yet I’d be conveniently free of her.”

“You _want_ to drive her mad.” Sebastian is unable to conceal the surprise in his tone. He should have known. “Was that the intent of your seduction just now, My Lord? It was, wasn’t it? You _wanted_ her to wake. You wanted her to see us.”

Ciel smiles wryly. “Believe it or not, I simply wanted to steal a kiss. The thought of Lizzie didn’t even cross my mind until I saw you staring at her with murder in your eyes. It was only then I imagined the extent of her hysteria _had_ she seen and the potentiality of my freedom lying within.”

Sebastian studies Ciel’s unwavering eye intently, searching for the barest hint of untruth, wondering at both the depth of his master’s darkness and his own desire to believe his words.

“Don’t look so shocked, Sebastian.” Ciel frowns.

“I’m not, My Lord,” Sebastian says. “Sometimes, though, I wonder which of us is a demon at our core. The death I’d offer would be a kindness in comparison to the torment you suggest.”

“Isn’t that why you so desire my soul?” Ciel smirks. “Because the purity of its evil is unparalleled?”

“You’re mistaken, Ciel,” Sebastian says softly. “The purity of your evil is, indeed, paralleled by the purity of your goodness. You are the perfect paradox, and the most glorious soul I’ve ever encountered. In all of endless existence, I should never hope to find another Ciel Phantomhive.”

Ciel swallows hard, and looks at Sebastian with an imploring eye. “Tell me why you haven’t taken my soul, Sebastian. You can’t tell me it’s not ready when you just said it was perfect.”

He snatches up the cravat Ciel flung at him earlier and busies himself retying it around Ciel’s recently marked throat. “Are you really so eager to die, Young Master?”

“No, you idiot.” Ciel captures Sebastian’s hand beneath his chin, raises it to his lips, and dusts kisses over his fingertips. “I’m not eager to die at all, which is precisely why I’m so desperate to know why you haven’t killed me. Whatever I’m doing to keep you intrigued, I want to be damned sure I don’t stop. Tell me.”

“I’m afraid there’s no concrete answer to your question, My Lord,” Sebastian says, pulling his hand away.

“Then I’ll take the fluid answer.” Ciel grasps Sebastian’s other hand and brings it to his lips. “Matters not if it’s messy.”

Sebastian moans as Ciel sucks his index finger into his mouth and circles it with his tongue. Fire blazes through his blood, and sparks light down his spine. He clears his throat in hopes of clearing his fogging mind. “You’ll not seduce an answer out of me, Young Master. I won’t deny how much I crave your carnal attentions, but, I assure you, they’re not what stay my hunger.”

Slowly, Ciel slips Sebastian’s finger out of his mouth and looks up at him from beneath a tilted brow. “I know.” He straightens his head and squeezes Sebastian’s hand. “I’ve given this a tremendous amount of consideration. Sex simply doesn’t fit into the equation. Do you remember our first kiss?”

“Of course.” Sebastian smiles at the memory. “The night of your sixteenth birthday.”

“It would have been quite alright had you forgotten.” Ciel scowls, heat rising on his cheeks.

“Why would I ever want to forget?” Sebastian says, his voice molten caramel. He caresses Ciel’s cheek. “You strode into the kitchen in only your nightshirt, your arousal evident, your eye uncovered and the mark of our bond blazing, your hair tousled, your lips bruised from Elizabeth’s over-enthusiastic theft of your first kiss earlier that evening—you were so impossibly beautiful, Ciel. So much so, I was clinging to the last shred of my control when you demanded I kiss you.”

“Really?” Ciel asks, awe warring with doubt in his tone. “It felt like forever that you just stood there and stared at me. Your irises reddened so much I was sure I’d just signed my death warrant.”

“You’d wanted a kiss,” Sebastian breathes, stroking his fingers through Ciel’s hair. “I’d wanted to ravage you. I needed to regain some composure or I would have torn you apart.”

“Strange,” Ciel snorts. “I seem to remember you being incredibly composed, Sebastian. You were so calm, so gentle. It was I who lost my composure, swooning like a school-girl and ejaculating all over myself the moment I felt your tongue in my mouth.”

 “After all this time, after all that’s transpired between us, that one little incident still embarrasses you?” Sebastian asks with a throaty chuckle. “Need I remind you how little instruction you required before you were playing my body like a finely-tuned violin? I have an exceptionally skilled and generous lover, Ciel. Even so, I wouldn’t trade the moment of our first kiss with any other.”

“You are such a crafty devil, distracting me with that silver tongue,” Ciel presses a kiss to the palm of the hand he holds. Then he lifts Sebastian’s arm and slides beneath it, pressing close to his butler’s side. He rests his head on Sebastian’s shoulder. “My point is you’d earned the right to devour my soul almost two years before I invited you into my bed. Whatever stayed your hunger then had nothing to do with my skill between the sheets. I postulate the unknown factor has remained the same. Am I correct?”

“You are astute as ever, My Lord.”

“That isn’t an answer, Sebastian.”

 “It’s all the answer you’re going to receive.” Sebastian tightens his arm around Ciel’s shoulders and breathes deep the scent of his master’s hair. Lavender and vanilla. Sandalwood and fire.

“Bastard,” Ciel mutters.

“Brat.”

“Tell me,” Ciel whispers against his throat. He wraps his arm around Sebastian’s waist. “Please?”

“You should try to sleep, My Lord.” Sebastian croons. “We’ll be home before too long, and Elizabeth is sure to wake when we arrive at the manor. I suspect you’ll have your hands full for some time afterward.”

Ciel doesn’t reply. After a few moments, he relaxes and his respirations deepen. Sebastian breathes a sigh of relief and focuses his attention on Elizabeth, least she wake to find her husband asleep in his arms.


	4. Chapter 4

For several blessed minutes, there is nothing but the sound of sleeping Phantomhives and the clomp of horse hooves on hard-packed earth.

Sebastian runs his fingertips up and down Ciel’s velvet-clad bicep, his eyes fixed on Elizabeth, his mind on the adamancy of the man in his arms. Although Ciel had demanded an answer, sometimes several times a day, for his continued existence in the months following the torturous deaths of Aleister Chamber and his twisted cult of resurrectionists, it has been years since he posed the question with such persistency.

_How do I explain to him that which I don’t fully comprehend myself?_  

“Have I ever told you how fantastic you smell, Sebastian?” Ciel murmurs.

Sebastian startles out of his reverie, and presses a kiss to Ciel’s crown. “Shh. Sleep, Young Master.”

“I don’t sleep anymore, unless I’m in your arms. Do you know that? I wake the moment you slip out of bed each morning. Those nights you force me to spend with Lizzie, I don’t sleep at all.”

Ciel’s words feel like butterflies fluttering against his throat, and the content of those words causes a warm quivering sensation to rise within his chest. It’s wholly unlike his young master to bare himself in such a way. Sebastian tenses and says nothing, suspicious of Ciel’s motivations.

_I won’t fall for such a rouse, My Lord—although, I must admit, you_ are _bleary eyed and cantankerous those mornings after you’ve passed the night with your wife . . ._

Ciel inhales deepl _y_ and sighs. “I love your scent. You smell like autumn, Sebastian. Like warm mulled cider and crisp fallen leaves and nutmeg and impending snow. I crave your scent, and it fades too quickly from the sheets after you’ve gone.”

“How much did you have to drink tonight, Young Master?” Sebastian quips. The sensation within his chest grows hotter, tighter.

“I know it’s insane. The only place I feel at peace is within the arms of my impending death,” Ciel chuckles lightly, and brushes a soft kiss beneath Sebastian’s chin. “What’s even crazier? Your arms are the only place where I ever feel fully alive.”

Sebastian presses the back of his hand against Ciel’s brow, and swallows hard against the swell of tight heat in his throat.

“I don’t have a fever,” Ciel whispers. “I’m not sick. I’m not drunk. What I am is entirely in love with you, Sebastian.”

Sebastian’s heart stops, and then restarts with a powerful thud.

Lifting his head from Sebastian’s shoulder, Ciel straightens. Gently, he turns Sebastian’s face, masked expressionless, toward his and looks intently into his eyes. “It’s high past time I stopped lying to myself. It’s not mere attraction to your form and to your power. It’s _you,_ Sebastian. It used to be a relief to know my life was forfeit. Now, I look forward to even the most mundane and taxing tasks because you’re at my side. Even despite the lie I’m forced to live, I’m _happy,_ don’t you see? You were supposed to destroy me, and somehow you’ve resurrected me. I love you, Sebastian. And I’m terrified, because I don’t know why I’m still here.  Because the only thing that scares me more than you taking my soul before I’ve spent every last viable second of my physical life with you is the idea that perhaps you don’t intend to take it at all. I couldn’t bear any form of existence without you.”

Sebastian’s eyes scald. His sharp, preternatural vision blurs. Hot moisture seeps over the swell of his cheek. _Oh holy Hell. Perhaps next I’ll leak from my nose and snivel like a toddler. Then my humiliation will be truly complete._

Ciel expression softens from grim determination to awed wonder, and he brushes away a tear with a gentle thumb. “Sebastian . . .please. Say something.”

The truth is traitorously evident, so it might as well be spoken. “You’ve enabled me to _feel,_ ” Sebastian says, and then gasps at the unintended waver in his voice.

“What do I make you feel?” Ciel brushes away another tear, his lips curving into a broad smile.

“Anything. _Everything._ ”

“Tell me . . .”

“I can’t! Don’t you understand?” Anger flares, and yet his damnable, maddening tears keep flowing. “I’m a demon, Ciel. Do you know what I’m supposed to feel? Hunger! Lust to satisfy that hunger. Nothing more of any consequence! I understand human emotions. I elicit them in my potential meals so I can feed off them. I don’t actually _feel_ them! Except . . .Except . . .stop _smiling_ you insufferable scrap of flesh!”

“Except you _do_. I _know_ you do. I’ve felt it. I _feel_ it.” Ciel looks so joyfully smug, Sebastian is struck with the simultaneous urges to kiss him and slap him. “Tell me what you feel, Sebastian. What are you feeling right now?”

“The Hell if I know. I can’t seem to pick one emotion out of the din,” Sebastian seethes, wrenching his face away from Ciel’s fascinated thumb. “You want to know why I haven’t taken your soul? I can’t. I hunger for it with an intensity I’m unable to articulate, and yet the mere thought of your annihilation sickens me to my core.”

He exhales a long, shuddering breath, basking in the warmth of Ciel’s eyes, committing the rare, blatant happiness of his expression to memory, and then confesses the discovery he’s finally forced himself to acknowledge, “Sebastian Michaelis was a façade, no different than thousands of others I’ve worn and discarded over my endless existence. Any emotions he _felt_ should have been as false as the face he wore. But, somehow, he became a _man._ Sebastian became a living, feeling entity who entwined himself so entirely with my essence _,_ I became him. I _am_ Sebastian.”

Still smiling, Ciel looks at him evenly, as if waiting for the point of an amusing story.

“I’m an abomination,” Sebastian says.

Ciel’s smile falters.

“I’m a demon, but wholly no more. I’m a man, but I never truly can be. I walk in both worlds, but belong to neither. I’m Sebastian. The only place I can ever hope to _be_ is at your side.” The truth he’s just spoken hits Sebastian like a fist to the chest, leaving him stunned and breathless.

“Do you want to be anywhere else?” Ciel asks quietly.

“No,” Sebastian breathes. “What have you done to me, Ciel? How did you manage to entrap me so completely?”

Laughing softly, Ciel uses both thumbs to dry Sebastian’s cheeks. “You have no idea how many times I’ve stopped myself from asking you those very same questions. Tell me you love me, Sebastian.”

Sebastian presses his lips to Ciel’s brow and sighs. “I preoccupy myself with attempting to ensure your continued survival, even beyond the boundaries of your natural life. I can no longer envision an existence without you. Is that love? It feels more like obsession.”

“Promise me,” Ciel grips Sebastian’s face with both hands, “Promise me if I should die, you will take my soul before it escapes into the ether.”

“There should never be a need, for I never intend to allow you . . .”

Ciel tightens his grip. “Promise me!”

“You damn me, Ciel. Over and over again, you damn me.” Sebastian curses. He gathers the young man into his arms and buries his face within the silken ruffles of the horrendous cravat. “I can’t. I won’t be the cause of your total oblivion.”

“Then don’t devour it,” Ciel murmurs against Sebastian’s temple. “Just don’t let it escape. Keep it with you. Can you promise me that much?”

Sebastian raises his head and looks into his master’s desperate eye. “Yes. For as long as I exist. But it won’t come to that, Ciel, assuming you’re able to tolerate eternity with me at your side.”

“Idiot.” Ciel breathes. He ghosts a kiss over Sebastian’s lips and says, “I’d think long and hard about your intentions, if I were you. Talk to my butler. He’ll tell you I’m an insufferable brat.”

“Why would I heed the opinion of a lowly servant?” Sebastian whispers. He flicks his tongue over Ciel’s bottom lip and reawakens his ever-present ache to taste his lover more fully.

“He’s not _lowly,_ ” Ciel chastises. “You see, he’s simply one _Hell_ of a  . . .”

Engulfing Ciel’s lips with his own, Sebastian swallows the last word and the moan that follows as their tongues collide and tangle.

“I think I’m going to be sick.” Hard and sharp, Elizabeth’s words shatter over the interior of the carriage like glass.


	5. Chapter 5

Ripping out of their kiss, Sebastian lurches away from Ciel and whips his head toward the sound of Elizabeth’s voice to see her sitting upright on the bench, her complexion a sallow shade of green beneath the flickering lamplight. “My Lord,” he whispers.

A wry smile plays on his lips. Ciel takes a moment to stroke a tendril of dark hair from Sebastian’s paling brow before he slowly turns to face his wife. “I should suspect you _do_ feel quite ill, Lizzie, after single-handedly drinking Lord Drummond out of champagne.”

“You.” Elizabeth ignores Ciel and fixes her watery glare on Sebastian. “You . . .you’re fired. Do you hear me, Sebastian? If I ever see you within ten yards of my husband again, I’ll run you through.”

_I shall have to stage an accident,_ Sebastian thinks for the second time in the space of an hour as he estimates their distance from the manor. They’re only a few miles from home, at most. _I shall have to act . . ._

His thought is interrupted by Ciel’s dark laughter. “It’s not within your power to terminate my butler, Elizabeth, by any means. So why don’t you stop spewing nonsense and lie back down before you foul the interior of my favorite coach?”

Growing ever greener, Elizabeth looks at her husband, horror in her eyes. “Ciel . . .this isn’t you. You’re changing. You’re becoming . . . You have to free yourself of him! Don’t you see? He’s cast you beneath his wicked spell. He’s . . .”

“Enough!” Ciel’s voice pierces. “I’ll listen to no more of your ridiculousness. I heard quite enough at the Drummond’s ball in the moment before you disgraced us both by collapsing against Lady Blackburn, drunk and slobbering.”

“Truth!” Elizabeth cries, her eyes flooding. “I told them nothing but the truth, Ciel, and you well know it! Perhaps I should have held my tongue, yes, but they’re my _friends_ , and I felt it only right they should . . .”

“Sebastian had nothing to do with your miscarriages, Elizabeth!” Ciel raises his voice, hard and cold, above hers. “If you’re looking for a demon to villainize, you might start at the bottom of those empty bottles you hide under your bed. Without them, perhaps your tongue wouldn’t be so dull as to miss the taste of . . .”

“Young Master,” Sebastian interrupts, his tone filled with warning.

Ciel pats his knee. “No need for concern, Darling. I know what I’m doing.”

_Darling?_ Sebastian frowns.

“Did you just call him _Darling?_ ” Lizzie shrieks, her face coloring an alarming shade of puce.

“Why not? We’re _lovers,_ Lizzie,” Ciel says pleasantly. “Isn’t that what I’ve heard you call your brother after you’ve spread your legs for him?”

Sebastian smirks. _You never fail to surprise me, ‘Darling.’_

Elizabeth pitches forward and retches, splattering champagne thickened with bile across the ruffled hem of her gown and the carriage floor.

“Bloody hell,” Ciel grumbles. “And with the manor in view. Couldn’t you have contained yourself for a few more minutes, Elizabeth?”

Lurching further forward, Elizabeth empties her stomach once more, and releases a shuddering moan.

“Are you quite finished?” Ciel says, exasperated.

In reply, Elizabeth goes limp. Sebastian pushes past Ciel and catches her before she tumbles into the filth pooled on the floor.

“Don’t foul yourself, Sebastian,” Ciel says tonelessly. “You should have let her fall.”

“Someone has to carry her into the house,” Sebastian reasons. He gathers Elizabeth into his arms and lifts her onto his lap as he sits down upon the bench opposite Ciel. “The task would be much more unpleasant if she was dripping with vomit.”

“You didn’t know I knew, did you. About Edward.”

“No.” Sebastian admits.

Outside, Snake’s voice rises. The carriage slows and then turns onto the manor drive.

“I don’t suppose you were ever going to tell me?” Ciel arches an eyebrow.

“Only if it became necessary,” Sebastian says. “They’ve been quite discreet, and I judged the benefits of their clandestine relations far outweighed the containable risks. I feared your pride would prevent you from allowing their affair to continue.”

“You underestimate me,” Ciel smirks.

“My apologies, _Darling._ ”

“Ugh,” Ciel cringes. “Sebastian, I order you never to utter that word in my presence again.”

“As you wish, Darling.” Sebastian deadpans.

“You loved it, didn’t you?” Ciel sniggers. “You’re a demonic _sap_ , Sebastian.”

“We’re home,” Sebastian states the obvious as the carriage pulls to a stop. “Would you like me to carry Elizabeth to her room?”

Ciel sighs. “No. You’d best give her to me. She’s like to rip your face off if she wakes in your arms.”

After relinquishing his burden, Sebastian flings open the carriage door and breathes deep of the blessedly fresh night air before stepping to the ground and turning to assist Ciel.

“’Our Lady is ill,’ says Oscar,” Snake says as he jumps down out of the box. “’Shall we wake Mei-Rin to assist her?’ wonders Maria.”

“Please,” Ciel groans, shifting Elizabeth’s weight in his arms as he hauls himself out of the carriage. “Thank you, Snake. I apologize for the mess.”

“It’ll wash,” Snake replies. He bows his head and then hustles away, whispering to the albino reptile slithering around his neck.

Elizabeth moans.

“Wonderful,” Ciel mutters. “Prepare a sleeping drought, Sebastian,” he says as they start toward the front door. “Something strong. I don’t want to kill her, but I’d be quite pleased if she slept until Tuesday. I’ll send Mei-Rin to retrieve it.”

“Yes, My Lord,” Sebastian intones. He opens the front door.

Ciel brushes a kiss across Sebastian’s cheek as he crosses the threshold and whispers, “Thank you, Darling.”

Sebastian smiles all the way to the kitchen.


	6. Chapter 6

Never before has Sebastian ever felt so tightly wound, so completely at the mercy of his physical form. Scenes from the carriage ride home replay relentlessly through his mind, cuing his heart to race or skip accordingly, directing his blood to heat or chill. Every muscle thrums with tension. He stretches out within the generous depths of the porcelain bathtub, but the hot water does nothing to soothe him.

Two floors above, Elizabeth wails—deep, gut-wrenching sobs filled with despair. “I’m sorry, Ciel!” She chokes. “I drove you into his arms . . .I see that, now. I’m . . .I’m . . .”

“You didn’t,” Ciel replies, his voice gentle. Sebastian imagines he’s stroking her hair. “None of this was ever your fault, Lizzie. Your only mistake was in not leaving me when I told you to run. Do you remember?”

“Yuh . . .Yes, but . . .” Elizabeth sniffles loudly and gasps for breath. “ . . .I didn’t think . . .I never thought . . .”

“That I was telling you the truth?” Ciel chuckles.

“Send him away, Ciel,” Elizabeth begs. “I’ll never touch Edward again. We could be happy . . .”

“We _could_ be happy,” Ciel agrees. “Keep your brother. Keep as many lovers as you desire. Embrace Sebastian’s presence as you did so easily when we were young, and become my dear friend once more.”

“No.” Elizabeth chokes. “You can’t mean what you’re saying. It’s . . .It’s _perverse_ . . .It’s not _right_ . . .Send him away, Ciel . . .”

“That’s never going to happen, Lizzie,” Ciel croons. “Take another sip of the tea. It will help ease your nausea.”

Above, Sebastian hears a slurp and a swallow. Within the hall outside the bathroom, he hears Mei-Rin mutter a curse as she stumbles against her bedroom door.

“ _Why?_ Please, Ciel . . .” Elizabeth whimpers.

“Because I need him the same as I need air,” Ciel answers. “Because I have no life without him. Because I’m in love with him, Lizzie.”

Sebastian sinks beneath the bathwater as Lizzie’s sobs begin anew, and he drowns out Ciel’s murmured consolations by submerging himself within his own thoughts.

_‘What I am is entirely in love with you, Sebastian.’_

He’s awash with wonder at the words, Ciel’s voice echoing through his mind. Of course he already knew of Ciel’s affection. For years he’s seen it in his young master’s eyes, felt it in his touch, heard it in his voice. Yet, actually hearing him say the words . . .why should it feel as if those words have intensified everything? Why should he feel as if he’s been released from heavy chains and yet become more tightly bound?

It’s ridiculous. It’s so . . . _human._

He surfaces and wipes excess water from his face and hair with both hands, the continued conversation in Elizabeth’s bedroom a dim buzz in his willfully unhearing ears.

_Tell me you love me, Sebastian._

_What is love_? He wonders.

He sees in his mind’s eye Ciel at twelve, his small body thrashing in the throes of a nightmare against white satin sheets. He sees himself sit on the edge of the bed and stroke damp tendrils of dark hair from the boy’s brow with his left hand, the mark of their covenant blazing upon its back, lighting the dark and sending flames of pain clear up to his shoulder. He’d _felt_ so much in those moments before he woke his young master who called desperately to him from a place Sebastian couldn’t reach—frustration and helplessness and concern so intense he’d been rendered paralyzed for a moment by the shock of the experience. And when at last Ciel had opened his eyes and found him, when he’d watched the boy’s stark terror dissolve at the sight of him, the sensation of warmth that had infused him so thoroughly . . .

Had that been love?

He sees his young master at fourteen, not so much bigger than he’d been at twelve, yet the ferocity of a conquering army blazes in his eyes as wields the epee with the grace of an expert and flays the skin from the immobilized Aleister Chamber’s pretty face with skillful, shallow strokes.

_Eat his soul, Sebastian. I fear Hell will be far too lenient. Devour him slowly. I want every molecule of his essence to feel the torment of its oblivion._

He had swallowed the viscount’s foul soul, but he’d neglected to devour Ciel’s. Had it been love that stayed him then?

He sees himself follow them from shadow to shadow as Elizabeth drags his young master away from the party and to the privacy of the frigid summer solarium on the night of Ciel’s sixteenth birthday. “Kiss me,” she demands, and when he parts his lips to speak she attacks, mashing delicate rosebud lips against hard teeth, causing them to bruise and swell. She moans and he groans and Sebastian growls with jealousy and possessiveness and pain. The intensity of his loathing for the girl in that moment is such that he is only feet from the pair, his hands reaching for her throat, before he comes to his senses and flees to the kitchen unseen and sick with rage and  . . .and grief.

He’d felt like something vital had been ripped from his gut—some crucial organ he hadn’t been aware he’d possessed until it was gone. Had that been love?

Had it been love that stayed his ravenous desire that first night Ciel had rutted beneath him, spreading his legs and lifting his hips and begging Sebastian to fill him? Had it been love that had caused him to instead flip his young master atop him, grasp Ciel’s slick, rigid prick and guide it into his own arse? Had it been love that had seen him through more than three years of gentle and patient preparation while Ciel achieved his full physical maturity before he allowed himself the ecstasy of claiming his lover?

Was it love which compelled him to nurture and protect Ciel’s drives and desires and interests? To fiercely guard his sense of pride and self-worth? He had considered simply abducting him and whisking him to the remotest location he could find, but Ciel, he knew, despite his frequent displays of disdain for others of his species, was very much immersed in his world. His intelligence demanded stimulation. His ego thrived on power.

Was it love which demanded he continue to demean himself to the role of one _hell_ of a butler?

“I love you, Ciel.” Sebastian says to the image of his master floating behind his closed eyes. “I am in love with you.”

He hears his words reverberate against the walls of the bathroom and listens closely. The words are true, he knows, for they issued with ease from his lips and his voice rang strong, but yet they sound hollow.

Love, yes, yet it is only a small part of a whole in which need, Sebastian knows, is the larger aspect. And what was need but compulsion fueled by the base instinct of self-preservation?

_Because I need him the same as I need air. Because I have no life without him._

“Yes, Ciel,” Sebastian agrees. “I had so feared you wouldn’t understand. It seems I do, indeed, underestimate you.”

He opens his eyes, sits up in the tub and allows his ears to hear. Bard snores lightly. Snake sings a lullaby to Oscar and Maria. Finny uses a chamber pot. Mei-Rin mutters, “’ _Lady’_ my rosy behind,” and yawns.

Upstairs, he hears his lover coaxing his wife to finish her tea. “That’s good, Lizzie. Now close your eyes. We’ll revisit this in the morning with fresh minds.”

“Stay with me tonight.” Within her voice, Sebastian hears her cling to the last wisp of consciousness. “Promise me you’ll be here when I wake up.”

“Of course.” Ciel whispers, his words slightly muffled. He’s holding her, Sebastian knows, his lips pressed against her hair. “Where else would I be?”

Scowling, Sebastian reaches down, pulls the plug from the drain, and feels his hopes for holding Ciel in his arms again before sunrise swirl away with the bathwater.


	7. Chapter 7

In his room, he lets his robe slide from his arms and puddle on the floor. With a snap of his fingers, half a dozen candles alight. Flames cast flickering shadows against barren, white walls.

Sebastian walks up to the full-length mirror and studies the form he’s worn since the night he entered into contract with Ciel. He’d plucked the image from the mind of a desperate ten-year-old boy in the moment their essences entwined and their bond forged with pain and promise and blood. He might have donned any human visage, but the façade he chose was that of the face the boy most ached to see, spun clean of its flaws and painted with just enough seduction to facilitate an inclination in the boy to trust him despite what he was.

He often wondered, in those first months, if the face he wore was a mimicry of the boy’s father’s. Certainly, he saw undeniable similarities between the visages of Sebastian Michaelis and Vincent Phantomhive. It made sense, really, that a desperate child frantic for a savior would reach with the whole of his being for his father or his mother.

It wasn’t until after Ciel had gotten under his skin and stirred within him a desire to know and understand the boy that Sebastian realized his face wasn’t a facsimile of Vincent Phantomhive’s, but of his son’s. The savior Ciel had sought in his most dire moment wasn’t his father, but himself—larger, stronger, and infinitely more powerful.  

Sometime after that epiphany, Sebastian began noticing changes when he looked in the mirror, subtle, but obvious to his heightened perception. First, it was merely a slight definition of bone structure. The almost childlike softness of his visage gave way to more prominent lines of cheekbone and jaw. Then, the bridge of his nose broadened just so, as did the ridge of his brow and the width of his chin. After that, the entirety of his face elongated from its rather androgynous heart-shaped origin to a more masculine appearance.

Subtle changes so gradual no one else in the household had ever made comment—not even Ciel. Yet Sebastian knew if he had a photograph of himself taken on first day he’d worn the Phantomhive butler’s livery to put next to a photograph taken of himself today, the changes would be startlingly apparent. Anyone making a comparison of two such photographs might also note the former image bore a much more striking resemblance to the current Earl of Phantomhive and his predecessor than the latter.

Most curious of all, these changes had occurred quite without Sebastian’s intent or control. Indeed, whenever the demon attempted to revert to his original visage, he found himself able to affect the appearance, but quite unable to maintain it. It was as if  . . .

No. There was no “as if,” about the matter. Sebastian Michaelis had somehow, someway, ‘become,’ and the face he wore was his own.

His own and no other.

Naked, Sebastian’s gaze rakes over his full image in the mirror, assessing lean, well-defined musculature before trailing back up to meet his own crimson eyes.

“You’re gorgeous.” Ciel’s voice rumbles. “So beautiful you make my heart ache.”

Sebastian turns to see him standing just inside the open door, his hair damp, his black robe tied loosely at his waist. The seal of their covenant blazes heat upon the iris of his exposed right eye, and Sebastian feels Ciel’s desire burn its intent within the matching seal upon the back of his left hand. “I didn’t think I’d see you again before morning.”

“You should know better than to believe everything you hear when you’re eavesdropping,”  Ciel growls and rips loose the knot of his robe as he kicks the door shut with his heel. He sheds the silk garment as he strides across the room, baring himself completely in the moment before he yanks Sebastian into his arms and engulfs his mouth with ravenous lips and tongue.

He tastes the raw physical need in Ciel’s hungered kiss as acutely as he smells the lavender in the soap the man used during his recent bath. It heightens Sebastian’s own substantial sense of necessity, causing his cock to throb painfully erect. Tangling one hand in Ciel’s hair while their tongues war, Sebastian grips Ciel’s firm backside with the other and pulls as he thrusts, rutting heated iron against the silken same.

“Fuck,” Ciel gasps, pulling Sebastian closer with one arm even as he forces the other between them to enclose both their pricks within his grip. He strokes vigorously, urgently . . .a bit clumsily, his hand overwhelmed by their combined slick girth.

Awkward though Ciel’s ministrations are, Sebastian feels that demanding coil of tension between his thighs tighten dangerously. Perhaps it’s the sheer intensity of Ciel’s desire driving him toward the edge so quickly. Perhaps it’s the feel of Ciel’s skin against his, the feel of Ciel’s thrumming heart, or the sight of his own ravenous hunger blazing within Ciel’s eyes  . . .all he knows for certain is he feels wholly overwhelmed and much too close to the brink.

“Ciel,” he breathes, pulling his cock out of his lover’s grip. “Stop. We have to . . .”

“Need you,” Ciel growls. He shoves against Sebastian with the whole of his body, knocking him off balance.

Falling. They’re falling, and Ciel’s tongue is rolling against his, hot and probing like the erection that thrusts against his abdomen, like the fingers that dig into his scalp and between his shoulder blades. They’re falling, and Sebastian, with Ciel wrapped securely in his arms, should like to fall forever.

Although he remembers it being several feet away, the mattress of Sebastian’s bed rushes up to greet them with muffled grunts as lips mash against teeth and teeth scrap against tongues. Copper corrupts the flavor of their kiss, and Sebastian winces against the sting while Ciel’s predatory growl vibrates over his tongue and he sucks greedily at the slight flow of Sebastian’s blood.

“Mmm,” Ciel hums. He laves once more at the small wound on the side of Sebastian’s tongue and then pulls back, a sly, thoughtful smile playing over his lips, although the intensity of the hunger in his eyes has waned not at all. “I’d wondered . . .”

“What did you wonder?” Sebastian breathes, willing his throbbing cock to calm.

“Later.” Ciel rolls his hips against Sebastian’s and they both moan, the delicious friction heating the flames of an already raging inferno over which Sebastian feels quite helpless to rein control. “Sebastian, I  . . .I need . . .”

He knows exactly what Ciel needs, for he desperately needs the same . . .but he’s well practiced at catering to his master’s needs before his own. “Fuck me, Ciel.”

His moan thick with gratitude, Ciel shoves himself down Sebastian’s body, pausing to suck one nipple to pert attention, before wedging his shoulders between Sebastian’s spread thighs. He grasps the demon’s thick, rigid prick and laves his tongue from sack to swollen head before looking up the length of his lover’s shuddering body and meeting Sebastian’s eyes. “I desperately want to tease every inch of your glorious form to the pinnacle of pleasure, but I’ve done nothing but torture myself with the thought of you for the past hour, and I fear I  . . .”

“I believe I gave you an order.” Sebastian plucks a bottle of lubrication out of the ether and drops it on the bed beside his hip. His cock pulses in time with his heart within Ciel’s grip, and the tight throb within his scrotum is painfully intense. It takes a force of will to not simply grab Ciel’s pretty face and force that luscious mouth down over his tortured prick. Instead, he throws his head back, breaking their gaze, arches his back and lifts his hips in invitation.

The weight between his thighs lifts, and then slams back down, forcing Sebastian’s hips back into the mattress while at the same time the top half of his cock engulfs within the wet, velvet heat of Ciel’s mouth.

A bolt of pure pleasure rockets up Sebastian’s spine. His fingers tangle in Ciel’s hair quite of their own accord, and his hips buck his erection deeper into the man’s convulsing throat. “Ciel . . . _Ciel!”_

Intense. It’s too intense, Ciel’s mouth working in tandem with his fist so that not even the barest inch of Sebastian’s engorged prick is spared of heat or friction, Ciel’s tongue swirling over his length with each upward stroke, Ciel humming and swallowing him deeper with each bob back down, sucking harder, gripping tighter, milking him ruthlessly with such desperate determination. It’s too much all at once, and he can’t . . .

Sebastian’s orgasm rips through him like a wrecking ball, hard and fast and with a brick-shattering force that rips Ciel’s name in a scream with the air from his lungs and sends it reverberating against the walls at a volume like to wake the dead.

From somewhere far away, he hears Ciel’s voice coaxing him back. He smells himself spent in the heated breath ghosting over his face. He feels slick fingers gently trailing over his wasted cock.

“Beautiful. So fucking beautiful,” Ciel moans. “Sebastian . . .”

As the world comes back, the first things he sees are Ciel’s eyes searching his, seeking awareness, begging permission with an intensity of need that looks tortured. “Ciel,” he breathes, and then claims the swollen lips hovering just above his with a kiss in which he hopes to impossibly convey even a fraction of the pleasure he’d just been delivered. He thrusts his hand down between them to where Ciel’s erection throbs relentlessly against his abdomen and, deeming it sufficiently slick, guides it firmly between the cleft of his buttocks.

“Sebastian,” Ciel pants, pressing himself just within Sebastian’s puckered hole. He whimpers. “I’m going to last all of three seconds.”

“I don’t care,” Sebastian murmurs. He digs his fingers into Ciel’s tense buttocks and pulls him in deeper as he lifts his hips and presses himself against Ciel’s rigid, invading girth. “I just want you inside of me. All of you.”

Sebastian is enraptured by the expression of ecstasy on Ciel’s face as he thrusts forward and sheaths himself completely, by the feel of Ciel’s body rocking against his, by the heated spice of their combined scents. He wraps himself around Ciel, legs around hips and arms around shoulders clutching his lover close, and rhythmically massages Ciel’s thick cock with the muscled walls of an organ he only ever uses for this purpose.

“Seb . . .Sebastian . . .”

His name delivered from Ciel’s breathless voice sounds like both a plea and a prayer, and Sebastian’s cock thickens once more, every nerve humming with desire, his prostate stimulated by the rub of Ciel’s deep, rocking thrusts. The demon within insists on _more,_ demands he ignore the plea, leave the prayer unanswered and seek delicious gratification.

Instead, Sebastian shoves the monster back into his cage. “Come for me, Ciel,” he coaxes. “Fill me.”

His young master’s pride has always been formidable. It remains so, even in the most vulnerable and intimate of circumstances. Within his embrace, Ciel tenses, muscles trembling, veins bulging, determination warring with lust in his eyes, which lock with Sebastian’s while he stubbornly refuses to relinquish the last slender thread of his control. “Nuh . . .Seb . . .”

Sebastian’s pleasure builds, another climax thundering on a not so distant horizon, but the sight of his lover’s strained, reddened face is almost painful. Sebastian looks deep into cerulean eyes and locks onto his young master’s soul. “I love you, Ciel.”

Determination shatters within widening blue eyes, and Ciel explodes inside of Sebastian with a strangled cry. His back arches, his hips buck convulsively, and then a shudder racks the whole of his body, releasing the tension in his muscles as it rolls and leaving Ciel quivering and boneless in Sebastian’s arms.

“I love you,” Sebastian whispers, tightening his embrace around Ciel. Satisfaction warms through his body in response to Ciel’s hot ejaculate absorbing through thin membranes, Ciel’s essence seeping into his blood and soothing the constant hunger that will never, ever be fully sated. He feels a surge of energy, a heightening of his senses, an enhancement of power owed to the replenishment his master has unwittingly given. “Ciel . . .Ciel, I am in love with you beyond reason.”

With a long, shuddering moan, Ciel recovers some strength and rolls onto his side, urging Sebastian with him and pulling him into his arms. He gazes into Sebastian’s eyes with an expression that looks almost reverent. “Say it again.”

Stroking his fingers through Ciel’s damp hair, Sebastian smiles. “I love you.”

Ciel hooks his leg over Sebastian’s hip and presses closer, his spent cock twitching the aftershocks of his climax against Sebastian’s scrotum, his fingers drawing lines of tingling flame up and down Sebastian’s spine. “Beyond reason?”

“Yes,” Sebastian breathes, his eyes locked on the vibrant soul shimmering behind Ciel’s. “Impossibly and with the whole of my being for the remainder of my existence.”

A low growl rumbles in his throat and Ciel presses his lips to Sebastian’s, his kiss heated but so brief Sebastian can’t help but moan his disappointment at the loss as Ciel says, “I’m changing, Sebastian.”

A chill shivers down Sebastian’s spine. He stiffens and shifts his head back from Ciel’s to see the whole of his face. “Oh?”

Ciel looks intently into Sebastian’s eyes. “I’m stronger. Physically. Mentally. I see things more sharply. Hear things more clearly. Bearing Elizabeth’s dead weight tonight strained me no more than would an overcoat draped over my arm.”

Sebastian barely dares to breathe. He tenses further, and searches Ciel’s eyes for the man’s inevitable rage, for Sebastian has, indeed, altered him fundamentally, irrevocably, and quite without permission.

“It’s your blood, isn’t it?” Ciel nods as if Sebastian had given affirmation. “When I tasted it, I knew. How long have you been feeding me your blood, Sebastian?”

“Nearly half a year,” he whispers. “One drop a week, filled with intent and diluted in your morning tea.”

He expects Ciel to lash out, now. He expects his calm façade to crack with anger and disgust. He expects a grimace, at the very least. Instead, Ciel arches his brow, his eyes filling with curiosity. “Why so little? And why did you wait so long?”

Surprised, Sebastian exhales a breathy chuckle and relaxes despite himself. “I thought you’d be furious when you discovered what I’ve done.”

“You’re making me immortal, aren’t you?” Ciel’s eyes widen with mock alarm. “Or perhaps I’m mistaken, and your true intent is to turn me into a poodle?”

“I would sooner you whore me out to that repulsive reaper. Again.” Sebastian grimaces.

“Oh, _Hell_ no! Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” Ciel swats Sebastian’s bum, and grins at the resounding smack. “You will _not_ guilt-trip me into distraction. Now answer my questions before I decide to become furious with you after all.” A small frown steals his grin. “Less than half a year has passed since . . .were you still deciding whether or not to collect your payment, Sebastian?”

“No,” Sebastian presses a tender kiss to Ciel’s lips.  “I’d only been biding my time. I needed to wait until I was certain you’d become the man I’d always envisioned before I began, least I rob you of unrealized potential.”

“The man you’d _always_ envisioned?” Ciel repeats, his voice thick. “I’d never hoped to become a man at all. Did I meet your expectations, Sebastian?”

“As always, you exceeded them on all counts, Young Master,” Sebastian caresses Ciel’s cheek. “Such an exceptional, glorious man you’ve become, Ciel. No one with eyes to see could fault me for wanting to immortalize such magnificence.”

“Oh, I could think of a few,” Ciel says with a wry smile.

“Point them out and I shall rip their useless orbs from their thick skulls.” Sebastian murmurs, and then moans lowly in response to the ministrations of Ciel’s talented fingers which rhythmically massage his bottom.

“Only you could make ripping someone’s eyes out sound seductive.” Ciel digs his fingers deeper and tugs Sebastian closer beneath the blanket, his eyes filling with dark curiosity. “It’s a wonder I’ve never come across demon blood on the black market. In fact, I don’t believe I’ve come across any substance that purports immortality.”

“My blood is merely a convenient vehicle for my intent,” Sebastian says. “Without intention, it’s merely a viscous fluid, nothing more.”

“So if you _did_ intend to turn me into a poodle . . .” Ciel’s eyes narrow.

Rolling his eyes, Sebastian snorts. “You and your infatuation with dogs.”

“But _could_ you?” Ciel insists, his fingers pausing their delicious motions upon Sebastian’s backside.

“No, Ciel,” Sebastian groans at the loss of Ciel’s massage, wishing he’d yielded to his baser nature and added to his intent control over his lover’s will—and then immediately scowls with disgust at the thought. “It is not within my power to fundamentally change what you are, much less convert you to an entirely different species.”

Ciel’s fingers trace over Sebastian’s buttocks lightly. “How much is within your power? How deep does this rabbit hole go, Sebastian?”

“Just deep enough to slip you from the grip of time and empower you with the ability to survive eternity,” Sebastian murmurs, stroking his fingers through Ciel’s hair and willing that of his blood coursing through his lover’s veins to make his words true. “I hope. Honestly, I don’t know, Ciel. I’ve never before attempted anything of this magnitude. In the past I’ve poisoned and I’ve healed. I’ve bent minds to my will and I’ve invoked insanity . . .but I’ve never attempted _this_.”

“It’s working,” Ciel breathes. “Sebastian, I feel you inside of me. Your energy pulses through me. Your strength . . .I breathe so easily, now. My reflexes are so sharp and quick, they almost scare me.” He chuckles, his eyes darting away from Sebastian’s. “I thought . . .”

Sebastian tilts Ciel’s chin until their eyes meet once more. “What did you think?”

He expects Ciel to tell him he thought he was becoming a demon. Instead, Ciel says, “I thought you were preparing to leave me. I was so certain you’d tired of the pretense, the servitude . . .I thought . . .”

“Absurd,” Sebastian mutters, and then covers Ciel’s trembling lips with his own. He kisses him softly but thoroughly, nipping gently at his lush lower lip before he draws back. “Haven’t I sworn to you, time and time again, that I would remain at your side until the very end?”

“Yes. But . . .” A pained expression flits over Ciel’s face. “You’ve completed your end of our contract. The end has been at hand for a decade. I wouldn’t expect you to . . .”

“Indeed,” Sebastian interrupts. “The end is at hand. _My_ hand. _I_ determine when the end will occur, if ever. Until then, we are bonded, Ciel. Irrevocably . . .unless . . .” His stomach sinks.

“Unless?” Ciel prods, his brow furrowing.

“I’ve acted quite selfishly, Ciel, initiating your immortality without your consultation.”

“You have.” Ciel agrees, his frown deepening. “I can only suppose you feared I would decline to voluntarily participate in such a future.”

“Yes.” Sebastian whispers.

“Would you like to know whether or not I would have agreed?” Ciel says coolly. “Do my desires matter at this point? Is what you’ve done to me thus far reversible, Sebastian?”

“I don’t know.” Sebastian breathes deeply. “Like I told you, I’ve never before attempted to make anyone immortal. I fear the consequences of attempting to undo what has been done could be quite dire, no matter how carefully I proceed.” He grips Ciel tighter, his fingers pressing deep into the muscles of Ciel’s back, and smiles ruefully as the image of Elizabeth’s clutching hands flashes though his mind. In this moment, he empathizes with her completely.

Sighing deeply, Ciel stabs Sebastian with a baleful glare and pulls out of their embrace. “Be that as it may, do you desire to know _my_ feelings on the matter?”

Wrong. It’s all going so wrong. Again, Sebastian entertains the thought of bending Ciel’s will to his own, quite despite himself, in response to the swell of dread threatening to consume him. “Yes.”

A cold smile stretches Ciel’s lips, reflecting the stone determination in his eyes. “Then I’ll tell you. I want it to be over, Sebastian. If you love me as you’ve said you do, then this farce ends right now.”


	8. Chapter 8

His heart cracks. Sebastian feels it splitting right down the center, filling with anguish even as it bleeds out his desire for continued existence. “Ciel,” he gasps.

“I’m done, Sebastian,” Ciel fumes. “Done playing husband to Lizzie. Done sharing her bed. I understand that unless I want to be incarcerated, I can’t very well publicly declare you as my lover, but I’ll be damned again if I’ll continue to sneak around as if we’re deviants or criminals within the privacy of our own home. Elizabeth can either comply and continue to play her public role, or be dealt with accordingly. Either way, I’m finished. Do you understand?”

Eyes widening with shocked disbelief, Sebastian gapes at Ciel, quite without the breath necessary to reply.

“Sebastian?” Ciel glares. “So whatever your reasons for insisting I nurture this sham of a marriage, they’re moot as of this moment. Any argument you might present could only be trivial, _at best_ , if you intend to be the sum total of my existence, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Wha . . . _the sum total of your existence_?” Sebastian sits up and twists to stare down at Ciel, who fixes him with a challenging glare. “Ciel . . .” He utters a laugh of disbelief. “Look at me. Look into my eyes and tell me what you see.”

Ciel pushes himself up on his elbow, his expression softening. “I see everything, Sebastian.” He runs the backs of his fingers gently down the side of Sebastian’s face, and the seal of their contract upon his right eye blazes. “I see the epitome of all that is, and all that could be. I see my damnation and my salvation, and the home my soul aches for.”

Leaning into Ciel’s touch, Sebastian breathes, “What you see is merely a reflection of what you are to me.”

Ciel scowls. “Sebastian . . .”

“No.” Sebastian catches Ciel’s hand in his and draws it down from his face. “You have to understand, Ciel. I have had consciousness since before humankind walked this earth, but my existence had no meaning . . .until you.”

“Ridiculous,” Ciel scoffs.

“I’d considered stealing you away from your life and binding you to my side,” Sebastian admits, pulling back from Ciel and sitting taller. “I am an avaricious creature at my core, Ciel. Perhaps that comes from an eternity of being driven by hunger. Ultimately, though, I was able to sate myself with the idea of your immortality, with knowing that whether or not I could see you or touch you or taste you . . .with knowing even if you abhorred me for cursing you to endless existence, that somewhere, you would still _be._ ”

“Sebastian . . .” Ciel leans toward him.

Sebastian pulls back. “I want you to live, Ciel. Fully. Be a husband. Be a father. Rebuild the family that was ripped from you when you were a child and fill those aching holes with bonds forged with your own children. Experience the light of a life that I can never give you . . . if only you’ll allow me to remain close . . .” Sebastian takes a deep breath, ignoring Ciel’s intensifying scowl. “Our contract can only be ended if I consume your soul. For as long as we both exist, we will be bound, Ciel, but if you wanted me gone, I’d . . .”

“Shut up.” Ciel flings himself against Sebastian and forces him down onto the bed as he gathers him in his arms. “Idiot,” he breathes, “I only ever ache when I’m separated from you. There are no voids within me to fill when I’m in your arms.”

Relief wars with disbelief, and Sebastian trembles within Ciel’s embrace. “I find it hard to believe that one such as I could ever possibly . . .”

“Sebastian,” Ciel snaps, the seal of their contract burning upon his eye with such intensity Sebastian feels not just a tingle, but heat searing the whole of his left hand. “This is an order. Never . . .”

Ciel sighs and flops back on the mattress. He curses under his breath.

The heat within Sebastian’s hand vanishes. “Young Master?”    

“Don’t . . .don’t call me that, Sebastian. Not here.” Ciel rolls onto his side and brushes a lock of hair from Sebastian’s brow, his eyes shining. “I love you. I can’t order you not to doubt my feelings. I can’t demand you see yourself as I see you. But I’m asking you, Sebastian . . .please. Allow me to love you. Stop holding me at bay and pushing me toward a life I don’t desire. Be my lover. Sit beside me at the table instead of standing behind my shoulder.”

“Are you firing me, Lord Phantomhive?” Sebastian asks, his tone of indignation not entirely mocking.

“As if I could ever hope to replace you,” Ciel shakes his head. “For as long as I remain Earl of Phantomhive, I’ll need to retain your services as my butler. But . . .”

Sebastian pulls his lord into his arms and kisses him, his tongue sweeping into Ciel’s open mouth. Ciel pulls closer, tangling his fingers into Sebastian’s hair as he responds vigorously.

Heat floods over Sebastian’s spine and pools at his groin. He ruts his renewed arousal against Ciel’s growing erection before breaking their kiss with a moan. “But you’ll have no objection should I pull you into my arms and kiss you like this in the midst of serving elevenses?”

“So long as we’re not entertaining guests, yes please,” Ciel pants, entwining his legs with Sebastian’s and brushing their heated cocks against one another. “Lizzie and the servants don’t count.”

“Perhaps it might be prudent to maintain a smidgeon of decorum in front of the others,” Sebastian’s breath catches as Ciel’s hand encircles his girth at the same moment his tongue flicks over his earlobe, “common courtesy, wouldn’t you agree?”

“No,” Ciel moans. “But then, I’m not in the presence of mind to concede that particular point—not when I so badly want you inside of me.”

Sebastian looks deeply into Ciel’s eyes, forcing the focus of his attention from the firm hand skillfully stroking his cock to the dazzling light of the soul blazing out from beneath heating cerulean seas.  He feels that brilliance open to him and grab hold, pulling him in and engulfing his own essence.

All the doubts that plague him despite Ciel’s fervent demands to banish the pretenses Sebastian had so carefully, if painfully, nurtured melt away beneath the flames of Ciel’s soul as it burns through him, and, not for the first time, he wonders at his ability to consume such glorious vibrancy without destroying himself, so tightly he feels Ciel’s essence interwoven with his own.

“Sebastian,” Ciel breathes, staring back into him just as deeply. “Please . . . I want all of you. I need . . .”

A sudden awareness of Ciel’s slick grip milking his throbbing cock rips a low growl from his chest, the intensity of physical desire crashing over him in a molten wave. Sebastian pushes Ciel onto his back and pins him to the mattress with the length of his body, his hunger to taste every inch of his lover battling with his reluctance to break eye contact. “Ciel . . .”

“I’m yours,” Ciel declares, thrusting his groin up against Sebastian’s, his arms encircling Sebastian’s shoulders. “Claim me.”

_I am his. I’ve always been his._

Sebastian doesn’t know if the moan reverberating from the walls comes from him or Ciel in the moment before their open mouths collide. Though eye contact is lost, their spiritual connection is not, and Sebastian revels in the feel of Ciel’s soul binding more tightly with his own as Ciel nips hard on his tongue and then sucks vigorously at the resulting wound.

Only a moment passes before Ciel’s frustrated groan vibrates over Sebastian’s tongue, the small bite already healing.

_I’d planned to do this slowly, my love. I’d planned to give you a few decades more to live as Earl of Phantomhive . . ._

Sebastian extends his fangs and renews the blood flow, infusing it with intent for Ciel’s heightened strength, health and immortality, his concern for a slow and cautious progression abandoned. His master has made his desires more than clear, after all.

Ciel’s limbs tighten around Sebastian with bruising intensity, his already rigid cock growing hotter and harder with each rhythmic upward thrust of his hips. He sucks long and hard at Sebastian’s healing tongue, and then pulls back, gasping. “Sebastian . . .I feel . . .incredible . . .”

“No, Lover, you don’t. Not yet,” Sebastian smirks against Ciel’s parted lips, and then buries his face against the side of Ciel’s throat where he sucks hard at the sensitive hollow, causing Ciel to buck beneath him and cry out his name.

Sebastian nips and sucks and laves every inch of Ciel’s throat before kissing his way down over first one shoulder and then the over, leaving no spot of skin untouched. He marvels, as always, at the perfection laid out before him, at soft flushed skin stretched over beautifully sculpted musculature. Ciel will never be more beautiful than he is right now, Sebastian realizes, flattening his tongue over a furiously hardening nipple. Nor will he ever be less, for Sebastian can both taste and smell the success of his intent. Cellular degeneration has ceased.

Time has abandoned Ciel Phantomhive.

Now, he must discover whether or not his power is truly as strong as he hopes. Sebastian kisses his way from one rosy nipple to the other, Ciel’s fingers stroking rhythmically through his hair and over his back, Ciel’s moans vibrating against Sebastian’s lips as they graze over the smooth expanse of chest. He closes his mouth over areola and sucks hard, his tongue rolling briskly over the eagerly responsive bud at its center which swells and hardens as Ciel utters a guttural moan.

“Ahh . . .Sebastian . . .”

Ciel’s fingers tangle tightly within Sebastian’s hair, his palm holding Sebastian’s head securely to his breast with a force of strength Sebastian well knows Ciel didn’t possess just moments before.  The nipple Sebastian suckles throbs in time with the thick cock pulsating against his navel, and Ciel thrusts both deeper, his breaths quickening.

“Fuck. Sebastian . . .” Ciel pants. “Stuh . . .It feels too good . . .”

Sebastian suspects he already has his answer. While Ciel has always proven beautifully responsive to Sebastian’s touch, the super-heightened sensitivity he exhibits now suggests a complete melding of the flesh with the mind, giving Ciel a body capable of responding quickly and optimally to its master’s every need and desire. Despite his considerable talents, Sebastian has never brought Ciel to the brink so quickly with mere nipple stimulation . . .not counting those first dozen or three times, of course.

Sebastian smirks and then rolls his tongue over Ciel’s thrumming nipple as he rolls the muscles of his abdomen over Ciel’s hot, throbbing prick, his fingers tracing feathery spirals down Ciel’s sensitive sides.

“Ugh! Seb . . .Stop!” Ciel pants, his body trembling. “I’m going to  . . .”

_Come for me._ Sebastian sinks sharp canines deep into Ciel’s engorged areola and sucks hard.

With a deafening scream, the whole of Ciel’s body arches up against Sebastian and he erupts between them as the first drought of his blood washes over the back of Sebastian’s tongue.

He has always disdained vampires as lesser demons; witless, filthy parasites. He himself would never skulk through the darkness foraging for trash like a common gutter rat. Even so, his first taste of Ciel’s blood feels like the sun rising on an endless night, painting a grey world with vibrant color.

Ciel cries out again, his fingers clawing deep into Sebastian’s back, breaking skin and setting rivulets of blood to flow. His orgasm still rips through him, hot, liquid pleasure continuously erupting from his convulsing cock. Sebastian tastes Ciel’s desire in the blood flowing over his tongue, infused with an intensity of bright, vivid emotion he’s never perceived when drinking straight from the fount.

Nothing has ever tasted so divine. Even the most delicious of souls pales in comparison to the flavor of his lover’s life force.

_His soul . . .I can’t even begin to imagine its magnificence . . ._

“Sebastian . . . “ Ciel gasps. “You’re going to kill me . . .”

 No sooner does Ciel speak then Sebastian tastes exhaustion flavor through the blood he greedily swallows. The body beneath his goes limp, and a spike of self-loathing stabs through him as he curses himself for the same kind of parasitic creature he so despises.

The taste of Ciel’s blood had taken him by surprise, but glutting himself on it had not been the intent of his bite. Carefully retracting his fangs, Sebastian raises his head from Ciel’s heaving breast and grimaces at the gory mess he’s made.

“Sebastian . . .” Ciel breathes his name, his fingers stroking weakly through Sebastian’s hair, his respirations fast and shallow.

A bolt of fear intensifies his self-loathing. “Work, damn it!” he curses, his eyes glued to the raw meat that once was Ciel’s left nipple. “Come on!”

“Sebastian?” Ciel’s voice is a little stronger, his tone reflecting a quiver of Sebastian’s fear. “What’s wrong?”

_Nothing. I’ll fix this, Ciel. I’ll restore you, even if I have to drain myself dry to do it._ Fangs extending once more, Sebastian prepares to rip into his own wrist . . .and then he sees it.

Eyes widening with relief and awe, Sebastian watches Ciel’s flesh knit itself together. Smooth skin begins to replace deep puncture wounds.

Ciel groans and brings his hand to his chest. Sebastian grasps his wrist and draws his hand away when he claws at the regenerating nipple.

“Itches,” Ciel complains.

Sebastian laughs and leans down to press a kiss to Ciel’s scowl. “The discomfort will pass very soon _.”_

“You _bit_ me!” Ciel stares up at him, incredulous.

“I’m sorry . . .”

“It was fucking incredible.” Ciel reaches up, pulls Sebastian down on top of him, and claims his bloody lips thoroughly before he asks, “Why have you never done that before?”

“Because I would have killed you.” Sebastian shivers at this truth even as he basks in the warmth of Ciel’s bright eyes and thanks a god he doesn’t believe in that he’d never felt moved to take a bite out of Ciel before.

“I don’t think I would have cared,” Ciel smirks. “I would have thought it humanly impossible to come that much.”

“Indeed,” Sebastian murmurs. He brushes his lips over Ciel’s. “But then, you’re somewhat more than human now.”

“I feel . . .” Ciel claims Sebastian’s mouth again, licking the last remnants of his own blood from Sebastian’s parted lips before plunging his tongue inside. He rolls his hips against Sebastian’s, his recently spent cock twitching with renewed interest, and moans deeply before gasping out of their kiss. “. . .insatiable. I feel like I’ll never get enough of you, Sebastian.”

A low growl rumbles in Sebastian’s chest, a fierce, carnal hunger crashing to the fore as he realizes Ciel’s body is now able to withstand the vigor of his abandon. No longer does he need to be so meticulously mindful, so overly concerned with bruising tender flesh or irreparably damaging muscle or ripping fragile tissues. Now he can truly unleash his desire. He can thrust into his lover long and hard and deep without worry he’ll obliterate the delicate lining of Ciel’s back passage like so much tissue paper. Blood rushes to his already engorged prick in greedy anticipation, and Sebastian sees the hot glow of his hunger reflecting in Ciel’s eyes. “You’ve never truly had me. A travesty I intend to rectify immediately.”

“What are you talking about?” Ciel’s shoulders strain up off the mattresses, his eyebrow quirked, his expression amused—none of which mask the trepidation in his eyes.

“You’re about to find out,” Sebastian shoves Ciel back down on the bed and hovers over him. “Do you trust me?”

The fear in Ciel’s eyes bleeds away. “Always.”

Sometime soon, he intends to make love to the perfection tensing with anticipation beneath him. Sometime very soon he will worship every inch of Ciel with reverent tenderness while professing the intensity of his love and need and gratitude from the very depths of his soul. Sometime soon . . .but now, with his demon’s hunger blunted to a dull ache by his lover’s blood and the intoxicating scent of Ciel’s pleasure clinging to his skin, he is overwhelmed by his all too human appetites—evidenced by the throbbing ache of his hot, taut and copiously leaking erection.

Sebastian nips Ciel’s lower lip, drawing a gasp and a bead of blood, both of which he licks away. He watches the small wound close, and grins. “Get ready to scream some more, Lover.”

Without waiting for a reply, Sebastian slides down Ciel’s body with preternatural speed and grace, draping a creamy, well-muscled thigh over each shoulder and swallowing Ciel’s semi-hard prick to its base in one fluid motion.

Ciel arches off the bed, thrusting his rapidly swelling cock deeper down Sebastian’s throat with a garbled moan/scream that sends fingers of electricity tingling down Sebastian’s spine. Taking advantage of Ciel’s suspended hips, Sebastian wills the fingers of his left hand slick and slides his long, middle digit into the earl’s hot, tight arse while lavishing dedicated attention to the rigid heat in his mouth.

A shudder ripples through Ciel, ripples over Sebastian’s sheathed finger and his swirling tongue as the man keens his sensory overload. Thin, bittersweet fluid floods Sebastian’s mouth. He swallows greedily, and then moans his delight at the feel of silk-clad muscles grabbing at his probing finger and pulling it deeper.

“ _Fuck._ Sebastian!”

He feels Ciel quivering, thrumming, desperately clinging to the brink. Sebastian quickly joins his forefinger with the other buried deep within Ciel and scissors them wide, stretching his lover’s gloriously tight heat while pulling him back from an edge he doesn’t want Ciel to fall over just yet. Soon—very soon—they will plummet over that cliff together.

Sebastian continues to stretch Ciel’s muscled walls vigorously, deliberately neglecting his prostate despite Ciel’s low whines and attempts to maneuver the gland against his fingers even as he repeatedly thrusts his cock deep into Sebastian’s throat.

“Fuh . . . _please_ . . .’Bas . . .” Ciel whimpers.

It’s all too much. His scent, his taste, the feel of Ciel begging around his fingers . . .Once upon a time, when he was merely a demon wearing a mask, he’d engaged in scenes such as this with nothing more than a sense of detached amusement, his faux human body well within the firm grip of his control, responding only to his own command. Now his heart beats erratically, his blood burns, his every nerve flares with desire, and the tight molten rod of building pressure between his legs screams to be driven home.

He stretches his fingers wide within Ciel once more while giving one last swallow around his cock, and then removes his fingers and his mouth simultaneously. He grasps the base of Ciel’s pulsating shaft securely and squeezes with one hand while guiding his own throbbing prick with the other as he stretches over Ciel and swallows his lord’s cry of protest at the sudden abandonment.

Despite his sense of urgency, Sebastian intends to bury himself slowly inside of Ciel, allowing him to adjust before he looses the tenuous reins of his control. He feeds the swollen head of his arousal into Ciel’s slickened ring of elastic muscle with trembling care as his lover’s heels press deep into his shoulder blades and a long moan reverberates over his tongue. So intent is his focus, Sebastian is taken by surprise when Ciel, with his newfound strength, rips Sebastian’s hands free from both of their cocks and impales himself on Sebastian’s generous length with one strong thrust of his hips.

They cry out simultaneously, arching backs driving their bodies impossibly closer. The last vestige of Sebastian’s control disintegrates beneath the tight, rippling heat that sheaths him so completely, and Ciel’s name rips from his throat in a feral growl as he pulls back and then thrusts back in to the hilt.

Ciel screams his name, a hand gripping each of Sebastian’s buttocks, fingers digging hard enough to bruise as they urge Sebastian deeper with each thrust, hips rocking up to greet him without fail. Never before has Ciel demonstrated such instantaneous pleasure at being dominated, his thick cock never flagging at the initial pain of intrusion, but growing hotter and slicker between them despite the complete lack of Sebastian’s usual attentive ministrations.

“God . . . _Sebastian . . .”_ Ciel’s grips Sebastian’s ass tighter and cries out, his voice shuddering and husky. “Ah . . . _God . . .”_

Sebastian, who once knew nothing of God, isn’t sure he hasn’t found Him in his current state of unadulterated bliss. It’s not merely the feel of Ciel physically surrounding him, muscular walls massaging his cock with each deep thrust, not only embracing but relishing his abandon, but it’s the feel of Ciel _within_ him, coursing through his veins, infusing him with vivid emotion, wrapping him so wholly within the warmth of his soul.

“Youare my God,” Sebastian breathes, thrusting deeper, rocking harder against the hard heat rutting into his abdomen, his every cell thrumming, threatening to burst with pleasure. “Ciel . . .”

 “Sebastian!” Ciel’s back arches, the whole of his body tensing as he releases a choked whine. “Ah! Gonna . . .Seb . . . Come with me!”

It’s an order he can’t refuse. Ciel’s rippling walls grip him, pull him deep and rip his orgasm from him mercilessly. Wave after wave of intense pleasure crashes over him, and he cries out for Ciel with the last of his breath.

 Shuddering beneath him, Ciel clings, wrapping trembling arms around his shoulders and legs around his thighs, holding Sebastian deep within him, caressing Sebastian’s twitching cock with the rhythmic aftershocks of his climax. “Bastard,” he whispers. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

Relaxing against him, Sebastian breathes a low chuckle against Ciel’s neck. “You might wish I’d continued to ‘hold out on you,’ when you attempt to get out of this bed.”

“Then it’s a good thing I have no intention of leaving this bed any time soon.” Ciel sighs contentedly and tightens his embrace.

“The sun will be rising soon.” Sebastian groans, loath to leave Ciel’s heat, and pushes up out of Ciel’s arms.

Groaning as Sebastian slips out of him, Ciel grasps his arm and, rolling onto his side, pulls Sebastian back down beside him. “Stay.”

“I’d love nothing more,” Sebastian says, “but everyone will be awake soon, and the chores won’t dole out themselves.”

“No. Mei-Rin will assign the chores,” Ciel stifles a yawn. Pulling Sebastian’s arms around himself, he drapes his own over Sebastian’s waist and snuggles close. “Later. I told her you’d be indisposed all day, and that everyone should feel free to sleep in.”

“I’m not sure that’s the wisest of plans, should you want the manor still standing when you wake up,” Sebastian smirks, and hugs Ciel close.

“So long as you’re still holding me, I don’t care,” Ciel murmurs, his voice thin with exhaustion. “Let me wake up in your arms, Sebastian.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

Ciel grunts and delivers a sharp pinch to Sebastian’s arse, but his tired eyes sparkle with humor. “I have no idea why I’m so in love with you. You’re incorrigible.”

“Utterly irredeemable,” Sebastian agrees. He draws the quilt up over them and nuzzles his face against Ciel’s hair. “I love you.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Ciel mutters against Sebastian’s throat, and then breathes deeply. “Mmm. Smell so good . . .”

“I’ll tell you why,” Sebastian whispers into Ciel’s hair. His fingers caress lazy trails between Ciel’s shoulder blades as he waits for a reply.

Ciel twitches in his arms, and then snores softly.

Pressing a soft kiss to Ciel’s crown, Sebastian nestles Ciel closer and smiles as he closes his eyes.

_He is my soul._


End file.
